


Waking Up

by nottoolateforthegame



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Injured Stiles Stilinski, Lonely Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-16 07:46:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28952925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nottoolateforthegame/pseuds/nottoolateforthegame
Summary: Stiles just wanted to curl up in his mother's lap and never leave.
Relationships: Claudia Stilinski & Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 2
Kudos: 24





	Waking Up

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back! With a new fandom. Been a long time since I wrote anything, and even longer since I posted.

The fragrance of fresh mown grass filled the air around him. Down the street, a dog barked, a child's laughter ringing out in answer. Stiles drifted in the liminal space between asleep and awake, reluctant to leave the peaceful slumber that weighted his eyes shut and left his limbs heavy. He felt the darkness of unconsciousness start to seep back in, a deep sigh leaving his lungs as he allowed it to pull him back. 

Something tickled his cheek, an annoying, too soft sensation that had him swatting at his face and trying to roll away. 

"Mieczyslaw, baby, you need to wake up."

Stiles frowned. No one called him that anymore. Not since Mom-

"C'mon Mischief. We don't have much time."

Stiles rolled over, squinting through one eye at the woman sitting next to him. 

"Mom?" Stiles blinked groggily at the woman sitting next to him. It was impossible, but his mom was sitting next to him, healthy and smiling at him with love as he remembered her from his childhood. Before she was sick. Before the hospital. Before she became convinced he was evil incarnate. This was  _ his _ mom-the mom who listened carefully and asked the right questions when he info dumped, the mom who picked him up early from school and took him to get curly fries because she missed him, the mom who played cops and bad guys with him in the backyard and never complained when he always made her be the bad guy. His mom was sitting right in front of him. 

Stiles felt his throat close up as tears flooded his eyes. He flung himself at her, arms wrapping tightly around her torso, hands gripping the soft material of her shirt as he buried his face against her belly. 

"Mom!" Stiles's voice cracked as he fought against the tears that threatened to fall. His body shook as he clung to her. "Mom, I miss you so much!" 

"Shhh...baby, I'm right here. It’s going to be alright. "

"No, it’s not!" Stiles’s breath shuddered as he pulled back slightly. "I'm so tired mom.” Stiles’s throat ached with unshed tears as he forced the words past the lump in his throat. “I can’t anymore. It's too much! Dad can’t stand to even look at me. He's drinking again and it’s all my fault!" Stiles had to swallow hard to continue. "Scott won’t talk to me anymore. Neither will anyone in the pack. I. I killed someone mom." He whispered, burying his face against her stomach as the tears finally fell. 

"Oh, baby. I know. It's alright. He would have killed you. It was an accident. You were fighting for your life." Stiles’s tears came harder as he felt his mom’s hand brush through over his head in a familiar caress. Eventually the tears dried out, and Stiles lay limp and drained across his mom’s lap.

"I'm so tired of fighting, mom. I’m so tired of being alone. They didn't even come help this time." Stiles whispered, thinking of the ignored texts he’d sent the pack about the pixies in the woods. He’d tracked them down himself and the last thing he remembered was the pain of something biting his hand, followed by a burning sensation and then numbness creeping up his arm. 

"I know baby. But you have to fight. You have to fight and go back.” 

“Go back to what?” Stiles scoffed bitterly. “The people I thought were my friends? Who I thought would have my back no matter what? A father who takes extra shifts to avoid being around me and drinks when he’s home? There’s nothing left for me.” Stiles curled up tighter around his mother.

“Oh, Mischief. You need to go back; and you need to tell your father everything."

"I can’t! He'll-"

"He’ll finally understand what is happening to his son. He misses you just as much as you miss him, Mischief. He will be upset about all the lying, and the danger. But he will always be on your side. You just have to give him the chance."

"I don't know if I can."

"You can. You are so strong, Mischief. So much stronger than either me or your father. I am so proud of the young man you've become."

"I don't want to leave you!" 

"You have to. It's not your time, not yet, and not for a very long time."

"Can’t I just stay a little longer?"

"No. It's time for you to wake up, sweetheart. Your father and your alpha are waiting."

"Mom, Scott-"

"Trust me baby. Your alpha is waiting. So is the rest of your pack. You won’t be alone anymore."

Stiles pulled away to look at his mom as he felt his mother’s grip loosening. She smiled down at him, and he realized she was fading away. 

"I love you, Mischief.

"I love you, mom.” Stiles whispered.

The afternoon sunlight faded to darkness, coolness replacing the warmth he'd been surrounded by. Stiles fought to resist the darkness, suddenly terrified he would be trapped in it for eternity. 

He gasped as his eyes opened, staring up at grey dotted ceiling tiles. 

“Stiles? Oh, God, Stiles!”

Stiles turned his head to find his dad sitting in a chair next to him, leaning forward to fumble with something on the bed. He dropped it, then leaned forward over Stiles. Stiles felt his heart clench at the bags under his dad’s eyes, the worry lines etched into his face that the relief on it hadn’t chased away. 

“Stiles. Oh, son. Thank god. I called a nurse. Stay with us kid.”

“Us?” Stiles croaked.

“Derek’s here. So’s the rest of 'em, but he made them all stay in the waiting room.”

Stiles turned his head and found Derek sitting frozen in place on a chair on the other side of the bed. Stiles was too out of it to discern what Derek’s expression meant, only that it was very serious. He hadn’t seen Derek in months, but here he was, at Stiles’s bedside, waiting for Stiles to wait up. 

“Alpha.” the word was barely a breath, but Derek’s eyes flashed red in response. 

Stiles dropped his head back on the bed, already exhausted again. He didn’t know how he got here from the woods, or how long he’d been here. He didn’t know why Derek was here or when and how he became an alpha again. But he hadn’t woken up alone, and that was all that mattered right now. 


End file.
